


something just like this

by voidslantern



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Blade of Marmora, Explicit Language, Fluff and Smut, Galra Shiro (Voltron), Keith's dad didn't die and Keith has been raised by both of his loving parents + Uncle Kolivan, Krolia/Keith's Dad - Freeform, M/M, Mutual Pining, One Shot, PWP, Size Difference, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 02:47:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17799683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voidslantern/pseuds/voidslantern
Summary: "There’s this heavy longing in Keith’s body every time he finds himself in the company of one certain Blade. Tall, strong, quite kind behind the grim face he puts on when dealing with the Marmora missions, Shiro is everything Keith has ever dreamed his mate could be."---a sheithlentines gift for Anon 06, heavily inspired by Jotaku's Galra!Shiro art ♥





	something just like this

There’s this heavy longing in Keith’s body every time he finds himself in the company of one certain Blade. Tall, strong, quite kind behind the grim face he puts on when dealing with the Marmora missions, Shiro is everything Keith has ever dreamed his mate could be.

It's taken some time for Keith's mother, Krolia, to return to the Earth and whisk little Keith and his dad away. Thus, Keith has been raised in an odd mixture of both Earth and Galra traditions, though because of his looks – as human as it gets, smaller than an average Galra, lean in all the right places, with dark hair and eyes so deep blue they appear violet -- he's naturally taken more after his father's culture.

It hasn't stopped Keith from joining the Blades when he's finally had come of age. Years of unofficial training finally put to good use, Keith has been slowly but steadily rising through the ranks. The lastest promotion has given him access to a whole lot of new, more dangerous and complicated missions the Blade of Marmora conduct deep within Zarkon’s Empire. Thus, Keith has met Shiro.

Keith _is_ familiar with the Galran courting traditions, however. He also knows the Galra mate for life. And Shiro is— everything. Keith has fallen in love with him in literal months. A few shared missions, a few tight escapes, more than a few sparring sessions with their limbs locked tightly and Keith beneath Shiro’s bulky form, some shared drinks together with the rest of their team and Keith has found himself completely at Shiro’s mercy.

More than that, Keith suspects that his feelings are actually returned. Shiro is not exactly subtle with the way how he regards Keith, his gaze raking all over Keith’s body, or how he sometimes stammers at the sight of him, flushing deep red. It might also be because Keith’s uniform is a size too tight. It has been a conscious, tactical move. Besides, his ass looks great this way. Shiro himself often can’t tear his eyes away. This has gotten them into so much trouble with Kolivan – Keith lets out a laugh as he remembers how their leader often has to practically threaten the two of them to pay attention.

They do. For a few moments. Then their subtle game resumes, equal in intensity though a little stealthier than before.

So when Keith wakes up today, he rolls in his bed for a bit, biting down his lips as he remembers just what, exactly, Shiro and he have planned for today.

It is another sparring session, yeah. But Kolivan and Krolia are gone from the base, and the most of their fellow Blades have either left for their own missions or are resting after their return from one. The base, almost entirely, belongs to just the two of them now, and Keith intends to put the opening presented to them to good use.

Keith jumps off the bed, somewhat giddy, a wide grin on his lips. After a quick shower, he dresses himself in his skin-tight uniform and doesn't bother with drying his hair all the rest of the way. He leaves it unbraided, too. Kolivan isn't here to scold him for it, so Keith – ever the free spirit - runs rampant now, humming some Earth songs his dad has taught him as he has to hold himself back from skipping as he walks through the empty hallways.

Keith's dad is on another Marmora base right now, Krolia headed there together with Kolivan so that they can plan the upcoming missions. Keith grins again, remembering how happy his parents have been as they talked over the QEC. Finally, they're getting some time together.

Speaking of which...

Shiro is already on the training deck, swinging his blade in some warm-up exercises. Keith takes his moment to admire the sight of Shiro – strong muscles bulging beneath the skin-tight fabric of his undersuit, the broadness of Shiro's shoulders and the tapered waist making Keith's urge to draw him almost take over. When Shiro turns and finally sees Keith, the broad, toothy grin on his lips lights up his handsome face, warm grey eyes watching Keith’s approach attentively. The light markings on Shiro’s soft skin and the scar across his nose ridge, accented by the yellow sclera of his eyes, look somewhat eerie in the lights of the training deck. For a moment, Keith sees them glow, though the sensation fades as he blinks in surprise.

“Morning, Keith.”

“Hey, Shiro. You’re up earlier than usual.”

A shrug of wide shoulders. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Keith immediately frowns but Shiro brushes his concern off with a nonchalant smile. “Doesn’t mean that I’ll go easy on you, kit.”

“When will you stop calling me that?”

“When Kolivan stops.”

“He’ll never stop.”

Shiro’s teasing grin is all the answer Keith gets. He sighs dramatically, though unsheathes his blade, assuming his usual position across from Shiro. The tall Galra regards him for a moment, the intense gaze instantly making Keith’s blood run hot in his veins.

“How about we have a go at unarmed, kit?”

Keith actually has enough of sense to chuckle nervously as he remembers the last time when they’d sparred like that, with Keith’s ass ending up snuggled right against Shiro’s crotch, both of them panting and the few fellow Blades present staring awkwardly anywhere but at the two of them. “Un— unarmed?”

 “I promise to behave,” Shiro purrs as innocently as possible.

Keith rolls his eyes. “You never do.”

Shiro’s lips twitch and Keith can’t help but let out a giggle. That last sparring has left Keith with determination to court Shiro properly he might have lacked due to his inexperience, so today... This might actually work for Keith’s little plan, too, so he agrees, sheathing his blade and gently laying it down at the equipment table. After contemplating it a little more, Keith also takes off his chest piece, rolling his shoulders as he enjoys more mobility.

Shiro, who’s come over to lay his blade by Keith’s, regards him for a moment too long, then chucks off his chest piece, too. Seemingly unsatisfied, Shiro pouts, then takes off his gauntlets, too. Keith’s gaze immediately catches on the planes of Shiro’s prosthetic, and a few pale pink scars bared by the sleeves of Shiro’s undersuit ending at his forearms.

He’s so damn beautiful. Keith loses himself in the sight of just a fraction of his skin bared. He shudders to think of Shiro stripped down completely naked, sprawled on a bed.

Shiro’s own eyes are glued to Keith’s nape as he sighs briefly and with a red band ties his hair into a loose bun. It’s one of the few Earth things Keith still has, it’s old and has been repaired multiple times, but Keith is still sentimental about the small relic from his home planet.

Keith gasps when he feels Shiro’s fingers in his hair. Even if his hands are quite large – especially in comparison to Keith’s, _they’ve checked_ – he’s still nimble and gentle, and now he adjusts the band to sit more securely.

“Ready?”

“Uh-huh.”

Keith tries to hide his flushed cheeks but it’s Shiro. He’s always been able to read Keith like an open book. It might have worried Keith at first – he had to learn how to go about with mischief with Shiro around, after all – but over the months of their acquaintance Keith has realised that maybe this kind of understanding isn’t a bad thing at all.

Shiro, in many regards, helps Keith understand himself. It’s something even Keith’s parents and Uncle Kolivan haven’t been able to do in full, let alone Keith himself. Shiro, however, reads his moods and finds ways to cheer Keith up. When Keith rages, unable to suppress his anger at the sight of injustice left unchecked in Zarkon's Empire, Shiro redirects that destructive force within Keith and soothes his sharp edges. But what has won Keith's heart quickly, determinedly, without a single doubt, is Shiro's unconditional support and belief in Keith. There have been some lows in Keith's path as a Blade. Shiro had been present during both, and both times he'd picked Keith up from the depths of self-blame and poisonous guilt he'd pushed himself into and saw him rebuild, stronger and bolder than before.

So now Keith grins, walks out to the centre of the training deck, Shiro facing him. Both nod in respect to each other before Shiro, as always, is first to lash out an attack.

Keith, small and nimble, easily dodges him, turns on his heels and drives his fist into the opening in Shiro’s defence. Shiro blocks him, the force of the impact driving a gasp out of Keith but before Shiro can do anything about his momentary weakness, Keith jumps, launching himself to the left and across the deck, landing in a smooth roll.

Shiro lets out a laugh, his eyes brimming with joy as the chase begins. It’s somewhat playful without the supervision of any higher ranking Blades, and Keith relaxes, laughing together with Shiro. It has been Krolia who’s taught Keith the Earth game of tag but it seems that the Galra have had a similar pastime for phoebs, too, and Shiro is quite adept at that. Not quite a true game of tag in their case – they still exchange punches and aim to wrestle the opponent until he'd tap out – it is still laced with hunting, chasing, claiming... being claimed.

So now, Keith runs for his life, barely dodging Shiro’s grabs, rolling and leaping out of the way, each narrow escape followed by Shiro’s breathless curses and quiet laughs when Keith deems it necessary to tease and taunt. Keith doesn’t even bother with counter-attacking Shiro. He’s learned the hard way that Shiro is quite competitive, even more so in Keith’s presence. He’s also learned that no one has ever beaten Shiro in close combat. So instead, Keith settles to his usual, unhurried teasing, enjoying how his little taunts and flashes of grins slowly get to Shiro. The time when Keith, oh so accidentally, runs his hand over his chest and torso, his fingers veering dangerously lower -- Shiro watches the motion with his jaw actually slack from both surprise and the deep kind of yearning Keith often feels within himself, too.

Fuck, it’s been months. Why are they still _not doing it_?!

Shiro licks his lips, light eyes going dark. That’s quite a signal that Shiro has finally reached his limit.

Keith grins, blows him a kiss and disappears behind Shiro’s back. Shiro’s cheeks are tinted deep purple now, the flush not quite reaching his ears but already making him look adorable, anyway. As much as an extremely frustrated, 11-feet-tall Galra with biceps as thick as Keith’s waist and with sharp fangs and even sharper wit can be.

Perhaps along with winning Shiro’s heart, Keith might as well teach him a thing or two about just how well Keith can read Shiro, too.

Keith lets his body loose, allowing it to move with the feline grace he’s learned from watching his mother. Still a danger, but an alluring one. Hypnotising. He holds his eyes firmly on Shiro’s, their gazes locking across the room. Seemingly out of breath, Shiro lets himself slow down and pant for a bit, wiping his brow. The air conditioning has never been good at the base, but after their heated exercise it seems borderline torturous. Keith instantly regrets not bringing along anything to drink but he still matches Shiro’s pace and with slow movement of his hips, a little roll here and there, he lures Shiro closer until Keith finds himself pressed against a wall and Shiro towering above him.

Exactly where he wants the both of them to be.

Keith involuntarily bites down his lip, fully aware of the heavy longing that has previously resided within him now blooming into hot desire that leaves his knees weak beneath him. Shiro's gravitational pull is too strong... yet orbiting him feels like home.

Carefully, Keith makes a deep breath, black eyelashes fluttering shut for a moment.

Why is even Shiro’s scent so attractive?

They gaze at each other for a while, both breathing heavily. The air between them is filled with scents of musk and sandalwood – Keith knows of those because his dad has taught him of the scents common on Earth, even if all that Keith has now is just the spoils of technological replicas. It’s still laced in the scent of Shiro, so taunting, so warm, Keith can’t help but lean in, breathe it in.

Briefly, he wonders what has Shiro so misty-eyed, what is it about Keith’s own scent that makes Shiro bend and gently lift Keith’s chin, gazing at his lips before he leans all the way in and nuzzles into Keith’s neck, startling him for a moment.

“Shiro?”

The heavy weight of Shiro’s flesh palm on Keith’s waist is somehow the only thing that keeps him grounded. Inside, there’s a wildfire dancing at the edges of Keith’s soul.

He turns his head so that the soft fur of Shiro’s big ears brushes against his cheek and lifts his own palms, running his fingers through Shiro's silky black hair, only the forelock stark-white. Shiro purrs at the gentle touch. Keith can’t help but pull his body closer into Shiro’s, his small thigh in-between powerful ones of Shiro. Experimentally, he slides it a little higher and the answering low growl is what gets Keith to tremble in Shiro’s arms.

The previously innocent and chaste nuzzle into Keith’s neck evolves into a heated kiss, a press of full lips and the wet, slick tongue right above the collar of Keith’s undersuit gets him banging his head on the wall so eager he is to arch his back and neck and give Shiro all the access he needs to claim the spot.

“Keith—“

The name is a low grunt into his pale flesh. Keith grabs at the hair of Shiro’s forelock and pulls him up, glares at him and kisses fiercely on the lips.

The taste of Shiro alone sets a shudder wrecking through all of his being.

Keith's mouth is already welcomingly open and Shiro licks in with pants and low growls at the back of his throat, tasting Keith and exploring his mouth with eagerness that borders desperation.

Keith rolls his hips. An open-mouthed moan. Shiro scoops him up and presses harder against the wall, their eyes almost at the same level. Keith holds on with his legs wrapped tightly around Shiro’s narrow waist and Shiro supports him effortlessly with his hands. Their kisses quickly grow wild and unchecked, both not shy from using their sharp teeth and abusing the stamina that comes naturally to them from their Galra blood.

Keith is hard already, squirming desperately in Shiro’s arms, brows knit together as suddenly, all his cockiness is gone and he waits for Shiro, waits for him to do something about it. About _them_.

Shiro pulls away from him, gasping for air. He’s dishevelled, the handsome face flushed prettily, his usually neat hair a mess from Keith’s fingers. Full lips swollen from Keith’s rough caress, slick from his kisses. One of Keith’s hands rests firmly on Shiro’s powerful bicep. The other strokes his peck, sometimes daring a teasing squeeze of the meaty muscle there. He can see Shiro’s nipples erect beneath the dark material of the undersuit.

What. A. Sight.

If Keith could, he’d spent entire quintants worshiping every inch of Shiro’s body. Now, he’s horny and aching, and he shudders when Shiro’s flesh hand leaves his hip that it held in a tight grip before and goes up to Keith’s throat, tracing the marks Shiro has left on him a little earlier, then travelling lower, resting right above his heart. Shiro smiles when he senses Keith’s heart flutter beneath his fingers. Keith bites back a curse and arches his back a little more. There’s no way Shiro doesn’t see the swollen bulge in his pants.

“Shiro,” he whimpers, impatient.

“Mhm?”

That hand of his inches a little lower, now resting just above Keith’s navel.

“Care to--?”

“What?”

An inch lower. Keith trembles. He feels his dick leaking, his whole body is too hot and too prone. He levels Shiro with a piercing glare that makes the Galra chuckle, the sound making Keith’s cock twitch in his pants.

“Fuck—“

“You want to?”

“Yes—Do you want me to beg?”

“Hm...” Shiro actually takes a moment to ponder, lips tugged into a smirk. “Only if you feel like it, Keith. I’d never force you to do something you do not want.”

Keith frowns. “I know you’d never do something like that—“

Shiro grins and kisses him again. It takes Keith a moment, busy losing himself in Shiro’s caress, to realise that he’s actually waiting for Keith’s permission to go any further.

Oh.

Suddenly, all the words escape from Keith’s mind. He curses again, in his native tongue. Shiro raises his brows in surprise but Keith catches his question with his mouth, dragging Shiro’s bottom lip between his teeth until the Galra outright moans.

“I want you, Shiro,” Keith whispers, fisting at the material of Shiro’s undersuit. He slowly lifts his gaze up and sees the universe in Shiro's eyes.

“Keith, I—”

Shiro's lips twitch and wobble. Keith's fingers catch a clear tear that suddenly rolls down Shiro's cheek.

“Hey, what's wrong?”

“I’m-- You're so beautiful. Keith. I-- I want you, too. I've always had. I've been searching for you my whole life--”

“You've found me, Shiro. I'm right here. _Yours.”_

When only kisses and shallow rolls of their hips grow insufficient and layers of clothing between them become unbearable, Shiro scoops Keith up, tossing him over his shoulder and slapping his ass for the good measure when Keith begins to protest.

“We can't leave a mess behind,” Shiro reminds him, his voice a little hoarse.

“I'm all horny for you, Shiro,” Keith hisses, “but carrying me over your shoulder like some kind of a conquest that _hasn't even happened yet_ is a bit overdoing it.”

Shiro's broad palm covers the entirety of Keith's left butt cheek, his fingers sliding lower and in-between. Keith’s cock seems to grow even hotter than before, trapped between Keith’s belly and Shiro’s shoulder. He writhes and wiggles a little, teasing himself with friction that sets his blood aflame.

“I don't want to part from you, baby,” Shiro purrs as he walks towards the equipment table, not at all affected by their tag game, and picks up their discarded armour pieces and hands Keith their two blades, “but we're the Blades of Marmora, too, and we respect our ceremonial weapons and our armour.”

Keith can only whimper in reply, slightly ashamed he'd completely forgotten about their stuff left unsupervised on the table, but the pet name goes right to his dick, his entrance already leisurely stroked and teased by Shiro through the material of his undersuit as he carries him to his quarters. Keith has to bite his lip to get himself talking coherently.

“Then hurry the fuck up, Shiro.”

Shiro laughs and presses his lips to Keith's thigh. Right at that moment, Saak rounds the corner, headed towards the labs. He gives them a look and Keith waves awkwardly at him with his blade as they pass. Their fellow Blade's expression is a weird mix of both awkward stupor and actual relief as he realises what exactly is going on. There have been talks of Shiro's and Keith's mutual crush for a few months now, Keith remembers. He also remembers there have been bets going on around the base. Saak's grin suggests he's on the winning side. He salutes them and resumes his steady gait; Shiro exhales in relief.

Keith's thoughts, both quite focused on Shiro and how good it actually feels to be carried by him like this, yet still wandering around since he can't quite wrap up his mind around the fact it is finally happening, immediately scatter the moment Shiro presses his palm to the digital lock of his quarters and steps inside and tosses the items he's been carrying aside, turning to let Keith put their blades down, too. Shiro doesn't let him go, not quite yet, and when they finally end up closer to Shiro's bed, Keith understands Shiro's intent.

“Don’t—”

“I’m gonna.”

“Don’t you dare!”

Shiro laughs and tosses Keith on the bed. Before he can quite hit the surface of it, Shiro's arms are already around him, Keith clinging to him instinctively as they fall. The bed welcomes them, soft and full of pillows and blankets, quite resembling a nest, and Keith doesn't end up crushed beneath Shiro's considerable weight, but his mouth is immediately claimed, again and again, as if Shiro's grown so hungry for him over the short doboshes they've spent apart.

All Keith can do is answer him and cradle him in his arms, body seeking friction instinctively, arching into Shiro’s large form until Shiro finally shifts them on the bed, yanking Keith to lie down properly against the pillows, his legs spread as Shiro settles in-between, his gaze racking over Keith’s clothed body.

Keith pants, eyes half-lidded with desire that doubles at the sight of Shiro’s cock straining in his pants. When flaccid it seems large, but when prone— Keith’s mouth waters and he immediately sets it as his goal to take all of it in, however much prep it might take.

Shiro bites his lips and flicks his hair out of his eyes, reaching to unzip his suit. The fabric pools down, baring Shiro’s broad shoulders, falling lower as he tugs at it, baring his arms and then his chest and torso. He watches Keith somewhat warily the entire time and Keith realises why. Keith lifts himself up enough to trace the scarring that mars Shiro’s light purple skin, brows knit together as he thinks of Shiro’s past.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Keith?” Shiro asks rather hoarsely.

At that, Keith sits up properly, places a series of kisses down Shiro’s bad shoulder and prosthetic, then shifts his attention to the scarring across his broad chest, murmuring in-between the kisses and licks and occasional bites all the compliments and assurances and confessing how much he’s been craving Shiro. His answer. Then, while Shiro is parsing through Keith’s words, his heartbeat frantic but powerful, Keith quickly works on unzipping his own suit, baring himself before Shiro completely. He hisses sharply at Keith’s lack of underwear, his gaze stroking every curve and plane and settling firmly on Keith’s leaking dick.

It takes Shiro a single push and Keith is back to lying down again. Broad palms set off exploring him, easily caressing him to the state of desperation that makes Keith’s fingers curl around his dick and begin to stroke, panting, begging, spreading his thighs.

Shiro’s ears perk up at the filthy sounds Keith makes, a lazy grin on his lips. It’s a single pinch and a twist at Keith’s nipple but it’s enough to make his gasp and roll his hips shallowly, cursing.

“Fuck, Shiro, fuck, fuck—“

He’s been on the edge for Shiro for so long, he might come from a single touch.

“Your skin is so smooth, Keith,” Shiro purrs, “and it reddens so easily.”

He leans down and bites around the pink mound, Keith’s pace stuttering when Shiro’s prosthetic covers his hand and forces him to slow down. Keith is so obedient he hardly recognises himself, his free hand coming to fist at Shiro’s dark hair. Meanwhile, Shiro switches his attentions to his other nipple, licking and circling around it, artificial hand gripping Keith’s dick and securing it from any more friction that Keith might have allowed himself.

“Baby,” Shiro whispers the pet name again, kissing a trail down Keith’s chest and torso until his mouth ends up inches away from where Keith wants it the most. “How do you want this to go?” Shiro asks then, searching Keith’s eyes.

“W-Wha?”

“What do you want me to do?” Shiro elaborates. Keith flushes at all the things he daydreamed about doing with him but today—

“Inside— Inside me. Please.”

The artificial hold loosens, a hot mouth tastes at Keith’s cock, easily taking it all, then releases him after a few moments of generous sucking. Keith gasps when the chilly air kisses his heated flesh but he’s speechless, busy watching Shiro climbing out of the bed and stripping down completely.

Keith gets a glimpse of criss-crosses of scars over Shiro’s back, some low enough to claw at the delicious curve of Shiro’s ass. When he turns and Keith sees him in all of his glory, Shiro’s eyes are still somewhat wary, something sad hiding behind his lowered thick lashes.

“You’re the beautiful one,” Keith blurts out, lost in the image of Shiro, in how stunning his tall, powerful frame is, how his muscles ripple beneath his skin, grace and strength, his dick a proud arch, veiny and alien and deep purple, already leaking generously though Keith has hardly had a chance to touch Shiro there.

With an ache in his heart, Keith repeats his words when Shiro avoids looking at him, just standing awkwardly a few feet away from the bed, seemingly frozen.

“I’ve been drawing you, Shiro,” Keith says then, “since the day we've first met.”

Grey eyes finally look up. “You... have?”

“Yeah,” Keith nods. “I have an entire sketchbook filled with you.”

“I’ve never seen you draw. I had no idea.”

Shiro's limbs seem to unlock, that sadness letting go of Shiro bit by bit as genuine curiosity and bewilderment take its place. Keith is aware that even without the physical contact on his body he remains hard and prone. Just talking and looking at Shiro makes him yearn, arousal never quite leaving despite the denial.

“Well,” Keith laughs, climbing to sit up against the pillows, the bed huge and swallowing him whole without Shiro in it. He still makes a show of it, moving in slow, graceful way and baring himself to remind Shiro of what he's missing of. Shiro's gaze is quite glued to him, his chest rising and falling with laboured breathing at the sight Keith provides. “I may have stared at you for a few times too long to memorise your features. You've even caught me once. I just couldn't be bringing my sketchbook along on the missions, could I?”

“You’ve really drawn me?” Shiro asks, a crooked smile on his lips. “Multiple times?”

“As I've said, you're beautiful, Shiro. I couldn't keep myself from drawing you. I've-- I've never met anyone quite like you and I l—I’m very fond of you.”

Why is his heart beating so fast? Is it because of arousal, or the almost-confession? Or it's the sharp snarl rumbling through Shiro's chest, something possessive in him as the Galra marches to the small storage compartment built into the wall of his quarters and rummages through it for a few moments, returning to Keith with a small bottle in his hand.

Lube.

Fucking finally.

Shiro blocks out the lights and the bed dips beneath his weight. Keith welcomes him home.

The possessiveness is hard and demanding, Shiro's lips moving with force against Keith's, tongue breaching in and claiming thoroughly while Shiro's hands roam freely over Keith's body. Keith returns the favour, taunting and teasing Shiro, moaning into his mouth like a little filthy slut, absolutely unashamed of being so vocal.

When Keith finally gropes Shiro, his fingers can hardly wrap around the shaft at its widest spot, but he gives Shiro all he has, stroking him fervently until he elicits soft curses and murmurs of pleasure out of his lover. The last bits of tension and the ghosts of Shiro's trauma leave his body and Keith senses the shift with his skin, goose bumps running all over him when Shiro murmurs something in his native tongue, the dialect different from the more common version of the Galran language Keith speaks. Shiro uncaps the lube, getting a generous amount on his fingers.

“It's quite cold,” he murmurs as a warning but Keith is too impatient and too horny and craving for Shiro. His thighs part a fraction more, his bottom lip between his teeth as Shiro coaxes his entrance in teasing circles before carefully slipping a thick finger inside.

Keith gasps but accommodates easily, both surprised at himself and actually proud that he's so loose for Shiro, anticipating his cock with mouth watering and the neglected dick twitching against his belly, a small pool of pre-cum already gathered on his skin.

“Alright, baby?”

“Mhm, more—”

Shiro chuckles. “It’s a lot to take in, Keith. And you're so— human. Small.”

“Doubting I can take you?” Keith growls then moans when the second finger slips effortlessly inside, the slow pump increasing in speed, heavy.

“Never,” Shiro replies, giving Keith a slow drag of his tongue over the spot where Keith's neck meets his shoulder. Keith's blunt nails dig into the flesh of Shiro's muscles as he pants and wriggles on his fingers. He knows he can easily let himself come right here and now but the longer Shiro works on him, the stronger Keith feels. He's never tested his Galra stamina this way before and most definitely he has never taken anyone of Shiro's size inside, yet his body blooms in ways he hasn't anticipated, eager to be filled, accommodating to the size difference between them like Keith is build for Shiro and only Shiro.

His fingers feel so good, filling Keith up better than the vibrator Keith keeps hidden under a lock in his quarters. He stretches Keith carefully but thoroughly, attentive to Keith’s whimpers, always looking for any signs of discomfort. Keith can only encourage Shiro, begging for more again and again.

There is almost no resistance when Shiro slips in the third finger, cursing softly when Keith easily takes him. The reward is a curl of digits against his prostate and, despite his previous determination to see this through until Shiro is buried balls deep inside Keith, the pleasure is too great and he comes with a shout of Shiro's name, hot seed spurting out of his cock all over his chest and belly in thick white ropes.

“Good boy,” Shiro coos, watching Keith attentively with eyes dark and gleaming. He leans over, his form blocking out the rest of the room from Keith's half-lidded and slightly disoriented anyway sight, and licks Keith's essence off of his skin, purring at the taste. He says that word again in his native dialect.

“Wha- What does it mean?” Keith pants out. Shiro's flesh fingers are still inside him, caressing gently, sparks of pleasure skittering over Keith and making his softening cock twitch in interest.

Shiro licks his lips and eyes Keith. “It means _my mate, my love._ ”

Keith's heart is impossibly light. He repeats the word, grinning widely. His accent makes Shiro smile so gentle Keith’s heart flutters and threatens to escape from the confines of his chest. Shiro kisses him again, pulling his fingers out but Keith hardly notices, busy savouring the way how Shiro cleans up the mess on his skin.

Keith feels desire pooling in his veins and his cock twitches, half-hard again. The worship of Shiro’s velvety tongue sets him on fire again, and he rolls his hips, arching towards the only one who can satisfy his thirst.

“So soon, baby?” Shiro coos. “Can’t wait for my cock?”

“Not a moment longer,” Keith admits, raising his hips high enough for Shiro to slip a few pillows beneath Keith’s waist, his hot breath caressing Keith's skin.

How can Shiro hold off and is so unhurried and playful and thorough with him is beyond Keith. Perhaps it’s a promise of more to come – and deep down Keith knows that’s true. Shiro always thinks a few steps ahead. The lazy, self-assured way with which he settles between Keith’s thighs, slicking up his thick purple cock generously and angling himself against Keith’s entrance is laced with confidence and endless devotion. Shiro doesn't make this about himself. Selfless, he cares more for Keith's comfort, for Keith's pleasure. Keith settles on returning his kindness tenfold.

Keith feels the fat, leaking head press and then breach, and he moans throatily, clawing at the sheets.

“Yes, Shiro—“

Shiro’s skin is so flushed, eyes gleaming in the dim light of the room. He pushes in, sliding deeper and deeper, Keith feels each inch with every part of his body and soul and wills himself to relax and take him.

And he does. Smoothly, Shiro slips inside almost to the hilt, and with fascination Keith stares at the bump in his belly. Shiro stares at it too, brows knit together as he shudders and bends, kissing Keith sloppily as slowly, he begins to move.

Each thrust is like a confession, acknowledgement of those months spent in mutual pining and suppressed lust, of each time they both longed but could never have since they have a war to win and obligations to fulfil. Now, though, things will be different. They have each other in full, bodies intertwined and locked in most intimate of ways, souls dropping barriers and exposing to each other affection and love that bloomed in the midst of the chaos of war.

Shiro grunts, shifting them, lifting Keith from the bed and into his lap so that they are chest to chest. Keith gasps, bracing himself, his dick trapped against Shiro's belly, each thrust driving him closer to the brink and faster than he has expected. He holds on with everything he has, clinging to Shiro. Sweat gathers in the hollows in Shiro's muscles, drops of it rolling down his broad chest. Keith catches them on his tongue, moaning at the salty taste, moaning more when Shiro, finally realising how well of a fit they are, moves without any held backs, his pace powerful, deliberate, each fuck making the thick cock rub at Keith's prostate.

“Baby, you’re so good—“ Shiro pants into Keith’s hair, his flesh fingers threading through the black strands as his artificial ones kneed at Keith’s ass. “So nice, taking all of me—“

Keith whimpers, arching his neck for Shiro to claim. Sharp teeth close in on the soft flesh there, enough to leave a mark that Keith hopes to last, and the velvety tongue immediately is there to soothe the pain and lick away a few drops of blood.

If Keith was big enough to envelop all of Shiro he’d do that. Now, he can only cling to him, long legs wrapping tightly around his waist, arms holding tightly onto Shiro’s biceps. Keith is so full of love and light he begins to cry, hot tears falling from his lashes and leaving tracks down his cheeks. Shiro looks at him like he’s something precious, like he’s a star from the sky in his hands, brimming with warmth and shining only for Shiro.

“I love you,” Keith says between his sobs. Shiro freezes for a moment, eyes wide and lips parted, but then he whimpers, the sound so sweet and quiet for a tick Keith thinks he’s imagined it.

“I love you too, Keith.”

They laugh and sob and kiss, bringing each other closer to the peak, Shiro’s flesh hand finding its way between their bodies and wrapping firmly around Keith’s cock.

“Shiro, I—I won’t last long like this,” Keith whispers, shuddering at each stroke, cursing softly when Shiro’s thumb teases his slit and spreads the slick pre-cum over his entire shaft.

“Then come for me, baby.”

Keith gasps, feeling his hole leak Shiro’s own pre-cum, wet sounds loud in the room. The orgasm that has been coiling within him hits him in full force, knocking the breath out of his lungs as he gulps for air, choking out Shiro’s name in an incoherent string of curses and love confessions, his seed all caught into Shiro’s fist as Keith tightens on his dick, riding his pleasure hard and full.

Shiro curses, too, and after a few thrusts more Keith feels hot cum flooding him, Shiro arches and his head thrown back, the delicious, muscular column of his throat exposed for Keith to nuzzle into and kiss.

Keith doesn’t want to let go of Shiro. Doesn’t want for his breathing and heartbeat to calm, doesn’t want to move or lose the sensation of being so full and loved and aching in all the good ways.

He lift his hands, trailing over the broad planes of Shiro’s chest and up, cupping his jaw and making him bend down so that Keith can kiss him, grateful, sated, at home.

“I’ve never felt like this,” Shiro utters. “I’ve never wanted to belong to someone so much as I want to be yours.”

Keith smiles, kissing him again.

“Then we have found each other, Shiro.”

**Author's Note:**

> [[ tumblr ]](https://voidslantern.tumblr.com) [[ pillowfort ]](https://pillowfort.io/voidslantern) [[ twitter ]](https://twitter.com/voidslantern)


End file.
